‘I assure you, Your Eminence; I’m doing exactly that,’ I lied. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to change to a more appropriate attire to attend the King’s Grace.’
*
Inside the king’s privy chamber, the light was dim, the only source of light was a blazing fireplace. I had never been in King Henry’s private apartments before, for it was only for his royal family and the ones closest to him. It was smaller than the chamber we had dined in our very first time in the palace, but it was magnificent, nonetheless. Tapestries covered the four walls, depicting various past events, whilst there were also some portraits of men whose names I did not know. A fire was blazing in a big fireplace.
The king was seated at the dining table, which was covered in a linen tablecloth with little fleur-de-lis embroidered on it. Next to him, a sole companion was the Duke of Suffolk, whilst behind them, there were three servant boys ready to attend to their every need. Some of our killings had already been served. The king and his duke were already eating.
‘Sir Edward, you are late, my friend. A little longer and there’d have only been scraps left to fill your belly,’ King Henry jested.
‘Apologies, Your Majesty!’ I said bowing. ‘I was otherwise occupied.’
‘By your father, no doubt?’ he asked.
‘Yes, indeed, Your Majesty,’ I lied convincingly enough, for that was not the reason I had been delayed. Eleanor and I had enjoyed an intimate moment in my chamber…
‘Well, sit down,’ said the king taking me out of my reverie. I obeyed and sat next to Suffolk. He then motioned to his servants to pour wine into the goblet in front of me. ‘Pray tell me, how are things with you and your father, Sir Edward?’ he enquired.
‘I confess, that he feels uneasy, Your Majesty.’ I said deciding not to lie for important matters to the king’s royal person.
‘Is that so?’ he asked and stabbed his meat with unnecessary force.
‘Indeed, Your Majesty. He’s a stubborn man, Campeggio… My father I mean,’ I answered.
‘Does His Eminence understand the consequences of not giving me what I want?’ the king asked arrogantly.
‘I don’t believe he does, Your Majesty. Not fully, anyway. But pray do not be harsh with him, for he’s old and ever so bound to His Holy Father,’ I said trying to sound like a son defending his sire.
‘His Holy Father, Sir Edward?’ the Duke of Suffolk asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. ‘Is the pope not your Holy Father too?’
Damn you! ‘Of course, he is, Your Grace.’
‘I believe, we understand each other, Sir Edward,’ King Henry said smiling. ‘So, I ask you directly, do you believe Cardinal Campeggio will give a favourable outcome to my Great Matter?’
So, that was why I had been invited to supper, so the king could interrogate me freely. I sipped some of my wine, took a deep breath and then spoke the most dreadful word in the English language: ‘No!’
The king looked at me transfixed for a few seconds, then he burst into shouting whilst bringing our table along with its delicious food upside down.
‘DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL?’ he screamed at me. ‘WHY DO YOU THINK I KNIGHTED YOU? SO, THE WOMEN AT COURT COULD FALL EASIER FOR YOU?’
‘Your Majesty, I-’ but I stopped talking because I had noticed that Suffolk was silently telling me to keep my mouth shut; apparently it was not wise at all to argue with the king when he had such an exploding temper.
‘Come here!’ the king said to me, less loudly now. I stood and approached him, almost trembling with fear. I had faced enemies in battle and fought them with bravery with my sword in hand; however, feeling the king’s wrath was something much more terrifying, for I was under his mercy and could do next to nothing to defend myself, physically or otherwise.
‘Have a look at this.’ He pointed at one of the portraits which were hanged on the other side of the room. It was a man painted on his left profile, no doubt an important one judging by his velvet-looking garments. ‘You know who this is?’
‘No, Your Majesty.’
‘This is Henry the Fifth. Do you know why he’s still remembered and has such a great honour of being here in my privy chamber?’ he asked me, but this time did not wait for an answer. ‘He won the battle of Agincourt against a French army which was vastly superior to his. A victory that brought half of France under English rule. This is how I want to be remembered throughout history; for my noble deeds in battles and conquests in lands beyond our own. Not as a king who could not even get himself a new wife when he wanted to.’
‘I see your reasoning, Your Majesty. However,’ I started. I could not lie to him, for if I did and then he discovered the truth otherwise, I would surely be a dead man sooner rather than later. ‘being Campeggio’s son does not depict me his counsellor. He would not listen to me easily and would be suspicious if I tried to pressure him too much to give a favourable for Your Majesty verdict.’
The king looked ready to attack me, however, Suffolk who all this time had remained silent rose and approached him. ‘Henry, listen to him. I understand you don’t like what he claims but I’m sure it’s the truth. These men of the cloth are stubborn men, indeed.’
‘Then we should not have them in our Church, the English Church has always consisted of men of honour and humanity. Cardinal Wolsey, for instance, has always delivered my will. But, what they are doing to me in Rome, is inhuman.’
‘Majesty, may I speak freely?’ Suffolk requested. King Henry sighed in exasperation but then nodded. ‘I agree with Your Majesty that the English clergy is less corrupted than the ones in Rome or Paris or elsewhere in Europe. I would not count Cardinal Wolsey as one of them, though.’
I looked at him puzzled, for I was not aware of Suffolk’s true feelings for Cardinal Wolsey.
‘I know what you speak of, Charles. Wolsey has abused his power, indeed. However, that does not erase all the good things he has done for me since I appointed him my Lord Chancellor,’ the king argued.
‘Majesty he has stolen from you,’ Suffolk pressured.
‘Enough! I shall not hear any more of this. ’Tis a matter between me and the cardinal. Now, his focus lies on assembling the legatine court and make my wish reality.’ I was listening and observing like there was nothing more important in the world, for every word they were speaking was invaluable information to me. ‘I desire a male heir, my lords, and I cannot have one because my marriage is cursed. Whilst I keep myself occupied on this Great Matter, the Holy Roman Emperor is continuously extending his lands, his empire growing year after year and that coward King Francis does nothing to stop him.’
Now, why was the King of France a coward for not acting against the pope, and King Henry was not, whilst he was also idle and occupying himself with mistresses? I did not comprehend, or in fact, I did but not wished to share it with him, for I believed he was a hypocrite.
‘We ought to proceed and arrange for the legatine court as soon as possible and help me God if at the end of it I’m still married to Catherine.’
*
As spring made its appearance to the realm and the first flowers blossomed in the courtyards and gardens, the date for the legatine court was still not known, and the frustration of the king was obvious. As for Queen Catherine, she had proven herself to be the most stubborn wife in the history of marriage, for she would not abide by the king’s wishes. She remained at court telling everyone who would listen that she was ‘the one true wife of the king and would not step aside for a mere mistress’.
Cardinal Campeggio had also confided in me that the queen had made a confession to him. She claimed that her marriage with Prince Arthur, the king’s late brother was never consummated and that she had indeed been an unspoiled virgin when she had arrived at the king’s bed.
The cardinal naturally believed her. Thus he had set in motion the pope’s plan to delay the legatine court assembly and hence the decision on the annulment until King Henry saw reason and returned to his wife. However, it was n
ow more evident to me than ever, that it would be more likely for the River Thames to dry out than for King Henry to return to Queen Catherine’s bed. Therefore, the further the decision was delayed the more danger we brought ourselves in; God only knew what King Henry the Eighth of England was capable of doing to get what he wanted…
After what had seemed endless hours of trying to persuade Campeggio to proceed with the case, he eventually concurred and set a date for the thirty-first of May. The whole court waited in great anticipation, for it was the first time that a king and a queen were being summoned to court to testify, so naturally, that sprang the interest of the courtiers. As the word was spread in the city of London, it was apparent that the king’s Great Matter had an appeal on the common folk too, and not a positive one as such, because Queen Catherine was immensely popular. Many people called it a disgrace, whilst others laughed at the expense of the king, having accurately predicted the actual reason behind this propaganda of his guilty conscience.
‘Why can’t he keep his mistress and stay with his wife at the same time? See no harm to that!’ said a man loudly to whoever might want to listen at the alehouse where I had gone to meet Belfrigh and Aeron. The man was holding a cup of ale and was waving it around in excitement whilst talking.
‘Because, you idiot, he wants legitimate male heirs, not bastards, and Catherine ain’t good enough for that… She’s gotten old. The Boleyn woman, though… Ah! There’s a sweet flower to devour,’ said another one more seriously.
‘Mistresses may have sweet flowers, aye, but they ain’t good for marrying, are they?’ countered the first man, wiping his beard from spilt ale.
‘Who cares? If she gives the king a male heir, then she would be good enough.’
‘A woman must be a virgin before she becomes queen, you fool.’
‘Then what about Queen Catherine? You reckon she was a virgin before marrying Henry?’
‘Course, she was, Prince Arthur was a little more than a boy when they got married, he’d never have been able to stick his tiny prick inside her…’ The debate went on and on in excitement until both men got so drunk that their words did not make sense anymore.
‘What do you think is going to happen, Ed?’ asked Aeron after a while.
‘I don’t know, but before this is over,’ I said draining my cup, ‘our fortunes are bound to change.’
*
That very night, upon returning to the palace, I received an unexpected invitation from the Duke of Suffolk; he was requesting my presence in his private chambers. There, we were joined by the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Howard and the Earl of Wiltshire, Thomas Boleyn.
‘My lords!’ I exclaimed. ‘To what I owe this late, yet otherwise pleasant invitation?’
‘We have an offer for you, Sir Edward,’ said Norfolk straightforwardly as always.
‘’Tis needless to say that whatever will be spoken between these walls must remain within them, so help you, God’ Suffolk added.
Another conspiracy. Oh, how I loathe and yet adore this ruthless and unfair world, where men pretend to be your friends by the light of day, and once darkness comes, they are prepared to stab you in the back!
‘We have gathered here tonight,’ the Duke of Suffolk resumed after a brief pause, ‘because we share a common enemy and we ought to take the necessary steps to dispose of him and make our lives better under the protection of the King’s Grace.’ He turned his back on us and headed towards a table where four silver goblets stood. He filled them with red wine and passed one to each of us. ‘It has already begun, gentlemen. The king is displeased with his Lord Chancellor, and it won’t be long until he demotes him of his current seat of power. We must all promise to adhere and act accordingly to keep him away from the king’s favour, for Cardinal Wolsey is nothing but a hypocrite and a corrupted man of the cloth. We need only to grasp our opportunity and give him his final push. Then he will be banished from his offices and the court before long.’
‘I trust it will be sooner rather than later, Your Grace,’ Norfolk claimed. ‘The constant delays of the legatine court have sprung suspicion upon the king’s mind, we need only guide this suspicion towards the right direction.’
‘Indeed, and when Wolsey is blamed for this, he might even be tried for conspiring against the king and his good wishes,’ Boleyn added.
‘What say you, Sir Edward?’ Suffolk asked.
‘I say, to your good health, my lords,’ and raised my goblet. ‘For we shall definitely be victorious in this endeavour of ours.’ We all took a sip and then I added: ‘The king will be merry again soon, and those responsible for his happiness are sure to be most graciously rewarded.’
*
‘What are you thinking, my love?’ Eleanor asked me that night when I had finally returned to our chambers.
Sitting on the window ledge, I had been observing the moon drinking wine and thus trying to lighten my heart and mind. ‘I’m scared, Eleanor!’ I admitted.
‘What are you scared of? You are favoured by the king now, and you also have powerful friends,’ Eleanor countered, she was sitting with her legs crossed upon the bed, wearing only her nightgown, her red-wine beautiful hair was braided and rested upon her right shoulder.
‘I’m wary of the consequences. Campeggio is sure to reject the king’s request for annulment, and what will happen then?’ I wondered. ‘The king has threatened to break with the Catholic Church and abolish the supremacy of the pope in this country.’
Eleanor looked stunned for a moment but recovered quickly; then she spoke again: ‘I cannot think anything better that could happen to the good, faithful people of England. The Catholics’ corruption has no border, Edward. I’ve seen that for myself throughout Europe.’
I turned my head and looked at her in the eyes realising once more how little I knew about this woman. ‘Who are you really?’ I asked her eventually.
‘I’m your Eleanor! None other than that,’ she responded with a sweet smile and then stood and approached me. She placed her hands on my shoulders and started massaging them slowly but strongly. Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself to her gentle touch. ‘You know Agnese was always the Catholic girl, even though she was a prostitute. She also believed that God Himself had provided her with that destiny for a reason, that’s why she was ever so reluctant to follow your plan in the first place.’
‘But she did follow it, nonetheless,’ I observed, my eyes still shut.
‘She followed me, Edward. I was her one and only friend in the world, and she trusted me, but I let her down.’ She released me, then took a seat on the ledge beside me and started weeping.
‘’Twas not your fault, Eleanor,’ I pointed out at her. ‘God sent the plague to punish His people for their sins.’
‘Indeed, but she was not a sinner… Despite being a prostitute, she was somewhat pure… Pure in her heart and did not deserve to die like this. It was my fault, for I convinced her to come with me to London,’ Eleanor insisted, and I could not deny her my understanding, for I was no stranger to having a guilty conscience.
‘Do you comprehend the potential implications, though?’ I said returning to the Great Matter topic. ‘If the Church of England separates itself from Papal Supremacy then King Henry will surely face excommunication, meaning that he would no longer be recognised as King of England by the Catholic Church,’ I elaborated. ‘Furthermore, this might also trigger the interest of foreign invaders, as no Catholic King would wish to make an alliance with a heretic. King Henry might bring this realm to destruction before long.’
‘I thought you craved for revenge,’ Eleanor reminded me. ‘This speculation of yours outlines nothing but the destruction of King Henry himself. Is that not your goal, Edward? Or have you had a change of heart?’
‘I wish to see the king shuttered, yes, but not England! I’m beginning to realise that the two are connected.’ I hid my face in my hands. How could this be? Was there no way disgracing the king and maybe depose him without bringing the realm to up
heaval? And who would take his place then? His daughter, Mary was still very young, and I was not aware of any other possible legitimate candidate for the crown of England. It was only the bastard Henry Fitzroy and… Me!
‘Do you wish to be king, Edward?’ Eleanor asked me after a few moments of silence.
Did I? I was not yet certain of the answer to this question, but it had been troubling me ever since my meeting with Pope Clement, who had claimed there were rumours that Henry the Seventh had married my mother before I was born, making me legitimate. Of course, I could not be ahead of the king’s daughter in the line of succession, but if the king’s marriage were declared null and void, then Mary would be pronounced a bastard. That would bring me next in line for the crown. However, there was no proof of my parents’ marriage, and I doubted that the pope would vouch for my case after Cardinal Campeggio reported to him how close I had come to the king, and as a result, I was not to be trusted.
‘I wish justice to prevail; justice for the cruel slaughter of my family. I crave to see the heads of the ones that brought upon this massacre on spikes, and the one that gave the order tortured beyond the limits of human endurance.’
Eleanor leaned and gave me a comforting, gentle kiss on the lips. ‘I know, my love. I understand, but at least you’ve got one good reason to be happy.’
‘Pray enlighten me, what is it?’
‘I’m with child!’
I looked at her with dreaded eyes. I did not know whether I ought to be happy or distraught. A child was a blessing from God, however, in what world would we bring our offspring? In this ever so turbulent Earth that princes dined in golden spoons and bastards were crawling for scraps, having no hope for happiness, their sole longing being a barely decent life.
‘Another bastard, then!’ I said eventually, and she slapped me hard in rage.
‘Is that all you’ve got to say, Sir Edward?’ Eleanor mocked me loudly. ‘After everything that’s happened between us?’
‘What did you expect then? That I would be content?’ I argued and stood up, putting distance between us. ‘I might be in the king’s good grace currently, but this may change unexpectedly fast, Eleanor. If he discovers who I am, he will have my head before you’ve even given birth to our bastard.’
The Illegitimate Tudor Page 18